


Baking and Other Misadventures

by 2012bookworm



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, Minor Eric Bittle/Jack Zimmermann
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 04:26:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11661594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2012bookworm/pseuds/2012bookworm
Summary: Bitty stares at him, before letting out a sigh that is both long-suffering and exasperated, but at least he no longer looks like he’s contemplating murder.  Derek will count that as a win.  “Is this a sorry pie or a seduction pie?”





	Baking and Other Misadventures

Derek thought he could finish this in a few hours, before Bitty got back from his afternoon class. But of course, he can’t make anything work like it’s supposed to, so Bitty gets home and finds him attempting to bake. 

“Derek Nurse, what in the world have you done to my kitchen?” He’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed, glaring, and Derek winces, taking in the way flour covers the counters, table, one of the chairs, and a significant portion of the floor. He knows it’s also smeared all over him, and there’s something sticky on either the inside of his arm or the side of his shirt, maybe both, because they keep sticking to each other. All that stuff’s fairly easy to spot, but he’s hoping Bitty doesn’t notice the pie filling coating the window or the fact that –

“Derek Malik Nurse is that my good pie tin?”

\- He’s using Bitty’s favorite pie tin. And shit, now Bitty’s hands are on his hips and Derek’s taking an involuntary step backward with a gulp because that is Bitty’s rage face and he is so screwed. 

“Um, everything else was dirty?” He tries, going for pathetic. This does not appease the tiny enraged hockey player, whose glare gets worse, and nope, nope, Derek did not sign up for this. He blurts out the truth. “I have to bake Dex a pie and this tin seemed lucky!”

Bitty stares at him, before letting out a sigh that is both long-suffering and exasperated, but at least he no longer looks like he’s contemplating murder. Derek will count that as a win. “Is this a sorry pie or a seduction pie?”

Derek chokes. “What? Neither! I made a bet! And it was with Chowder, not Dex!”

Bitty’s eyes widen in comprehension. “Oh.”

“A seduction pie?” Derek tries to wrap his head around the concept. It makes sense, he guesses, pie is delicious, but for Dex? And why would he be making a seduction pie for Dex? He’s attractive, yes, and it’s not like he’s never thought about it, but they’re friends. “People make those?” 

“Oh, honey.” Bitty says, the words dripping with condescension. “That’s how my Moo-Maw convinced my Pops to propose.”

Derek thinks about that for a second. “What is Georgia?”

Bitty rolls his eyes, huffs, and walks over to peer into the bowl of filling. “Blueberry?” He sticks a finger in and tastes it. “Did you add cinnamon to this?”

“Uh, yeah.” Derek shrugged. “It seemed to work out ok.”

“Huh.” Bitty seemed surprised. Honestly, Derek was too. “Maybe I’ll experiment with blueberry-cinnamon jam this spring.” He steals another taste before turning back to Derek. “So what was the bet?”

“I just have to, um, make Dex a pie. Without help. And it can’t poison him. And I can’t tell Dex what I’m doing until it’s finished.” Derek stops, thinks it over. Chowder really hadn’t been particularly specific, just told him to bake Dex a pie. There’s probably some strange goalie logic behind the whole thing. “That’s it, really.”

Bitty looks around the white-coated kitchen. “And this is?”

“Attempt number three?” At Bitty’s incredulous look he hurries to explain. “Most of the flour’s ‘cause I tripped and dropped the first bag and it sort of exploded. Um. Everywhere. I got the filling right the second time, but it took a couple more tries to get the dough to work – Crisco is disgusting, Bitty, I don’t get it, and –“

“Wait.” Bitty holds up a hand, a look of horror on his face. “You’re using Crisco? Oh, honey.” 

“Is that…not right?” Derek asks. It’s not like he actually knows what he’s doing. He’d just googled. “Because the recipe I found online said –“

Bitty sighs mournfully. “Of course it did. It’s fine. At least nothing smells like burning.” 

“Er…. that’s because I haven’t gotten anything in the oven yet? But I think this one is almost ready.” He points down at the filled pie tin with half a crooked lattice on top. It looks…ok. Sort of. Maybe. Hopefully.

“So if this is attempt number three, how long have you been in here?” Bitty asks, obviously not commenting on the lopsided pie.

“What time is it?” Derek asks, rubbing his hand across his face before he remembers that his fingers are covered in a mix of blueberry filling and dough.

Bitty snags a nearby dishtowel, shakes the flour off of it, grabs Derek’s chin, and starts wiping at his face. “You would pick the fruit most likely to stain your skin. And it’s after five.”

“So, since noon?” Derek bends down a little to make it easier for Bitty to reach. “Ish? And blueberry’s Dex’s favorite.”

“Honey. Really?” Bitty finishes scrubbing, takes another look around the disaster of a kitchen, and sighs. “Just…clean up when you’re done?”

Derek nods his head up and down, thankful that Bitty’s not yelling at him for the kitchen’s current state. “Of course! Thanks Bitty!”

Bitty sighs again and starts to leave, stopping in the doorway to throw over his shoulder. “Oh, and Nursey? If you break my good pie tin, there’ll be hell to pay.”

Then he’s gone, and Derek relaxes, turning back to his half-completed pie. It looks at least edible, if not like the careful geometric construction of a Bitty pie, and that has to count for something. All he has to do is finish this lattice and then bake it, and baking it’s easy, he just puts it in the oven and leaves it alone, and ta-da, pie. Hopefully. And that reminds him, he needs to pre-heat the oven.

He wants Dex to like it, is the thing. He knows it’s just a stupid bet with Chowder, and it just has to be edible, not necessarily good, but Dex has been stressed from some big coding project and the only time Derek sees him anymore is at practice because he gets in after Derek goes to sleep and leaves before he gets up to go running for some godforsaken reason. And even at practice he’s been acting weird, distant and preoccupied, which is a marked change from the way they’ve been spending every moment with each other since September, and Derek doesn’t like it. It’s making him feel weird and off-balance to not look over and have Dex just there, and he doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong, but everyone likes pie and it is Dex’s favorite and he misses his stupid face. Misses all of him, actually.

He finishes the lattice and focuses on getting the stupid pie in to the now pre-heated oven, taking careful steps across the slippery floor, which is of course when – 

“Bitty’s gonna kill you.”

– Dex appears in the doorway, and he stumbles, watching with distant horror as the pie starts to tip out of his hands.

Somehow, Dex gets there in time to steady it, and Derek feels like bursting in to tears. “Dude, you ok?”

Derek takes a breath to collect his chill. It’s just a pie. One he’s been working on all day. But still just a pie. “Chyeah, fine.” Dex narrows his eyes. Derek finds himself desperately qualifying. “Just, stressed, you know?”

“Yeah, you’ve got that paper due soon, right?” Dex asks. 

He latches on to the excuse. “Yeah. Papers suck, man.” 

And it’s not completely a lie, because they do, especially this one because he hasn’t been able to work on it because somehow writing is not the same without the weirdly soothing background noise of Dex’s random humming. He wonders if it would be weird to tell Dex that.

Dex looks down, realizes they’re both still holding on to the pie, blushes, and pulls away. “So, um, why are you baking? I thought you hated cooking.”

“I don’t hate it, I’m just terrible at it.” Derek hesitates, deciding how much he wants to say, what won’t violate the terms of his bet. “I wanted to make you a pie.”

“Oh.” Dex turns redder, stares at his shoes. “That’s…. thanks, Nursey.”

Derek, feeling self-conscious, peers down at the mess in his hands. “It should be edible, at least.”

Dex looks around the kitchen. “How long have you been working on this?”

Lying, he decides is probably best in this case. He can downplay the whole thing, make it less of a big deal, because it’s not supposed to be a big deal. It’s just a bet. “Er… not long?” 

“Uh-huh.” Dex says, skeptical. “Need any help cleaning up while we wait for it to bake?”

He doesn’t care if this violates the term of Chowder’s bet, it’s the most he’s seen Dex in days, and he is not about to give that up. “Yes please.”

They stand there awkwardly for a moment. Dex clears his throat. “So, are you going to actually put the pie in the oven?”

“Yes! Right, yes, doing that.” Derek says and takes the few more careful steps necessary to open the oven door and slide the pie in, before setting the timer on his phone. He turns around to find Dex pulling the broom out of the kitchen closet. He grabs a spare towel and starts trying to clean the window while Dex starts sweeping. They don’t talk, but Derek feels something inside him relax anyway at the resumption of the quiet companionship they’d gotten good at when they became roommates. He steals glances at Dex out of the corner of his eye. This is enough, he thinks, just having him here is enough.

***

Bitty, going down to check on Nursey, finds Chowder lurking in the hallway. 

“Is your diabolical plan working yet?” He whispers, with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

Chowder jumps. “Bitty! Hey! And no, but they’re at least talking again, and I was so tired of the moping.”

“We’re all tired of the moping.” It’s like Nursey’s had a small black cloud following him around for the past week and half. Bitty doesn’t know whether to feel sorry for him or shake him. Dex is at least slightly more subtle.

“Me and Cait have tried everything, Bitty! We’ve taken them on double dates and they still don’t get it! Dex pines, Nursey is oblivious, they spend all their time together, and nothing happens. It’s driving us crazy!” Chowder’s exuberant hand gestures threatened to knock a picture off the wall.

“So your answer was pie?” Bitty asked, trying to understand the reasoning. Not that pie isn’t the answer to almost everything, but he can’t figure out why Chowder thinks it will convince Dex and Nursey to get their act together.

“It worked for you and Jack?” Chowders says, shrugging. “We’re pretty much out of ideas at this point. We even took them to a romantic restaurant. With candles.”

Bitty tries to imagine Dex and Nursey at a table with candles. “How…how’d that go?”

Chowder sighs. “Nursey almost knocked the candles over and Dex spent the whole time looking super uncomfortable.” 

That seems about like how Bitty had imagined it. Privately, he thinks the best plan would involve a game of spin the bottle. “So… pie.”

“Pie.” Chowder says grimly.

There’s a yelp from the kitchen followed by a crash and the two of them dash forward to peer around the doorway. Dex is on the floor, a broom next to him, with Nursey sprawled out on top of him. Bitty exchanges a glance with Chowder. It’s like a classic rom-com moment. There’s hope yet.

“Dude, how are you this fucking clumsy?” Dex groans, head falling back to hit the floor.

Nursey, above him, appears to be frozen. Dex pushes at his shoulder. “Um, get off of me.”

Which is when Nursey leans down and kisses Dex. Bitty gasps, but thankfully it’s quiet enough that it’s lost in the sounds of Nursey frantically scrambling away, a mortified look on his face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve –“

Dex, hair turning grey from the flour, eyes a little wild, props himself up on his elbows and interrupts Nursey. “If it was ‘cause you didn’t get permission, well, permission fucking granted, come back here and do it again.”

Chowder makes a muffled happy noise. Nursey’s mouth gapes in shock, and Bitty’s about half a second away from yelling kiss him you fool when he blinks and throws himself at Dex, knocking him back onto the floor with an oof. When Bitty looks over, Chowder is nearly vibrating with suppressed joy. Bitty nudges him with an elbow and jerks his head back towards the hall. They leave Nursey and Dex making out on the kitchen floor.

“It worked!” Chowder quietly whoops. “I’ve gotta call Cait and tell her! This is so ‘swawesome!”

“They better not have sex in my kitchen.” Bitty grumbles, but really, finally. Those two boys. He’s been complaining about them to Jack for weeks. He’s been sympathetic, but, not having to actually deal with the moping, mostly finds it sort of hilarious and has managed to get every single one of the Falconers overinvested in all the drama, particularly, for some odd reason, Guy. Jack says it’s because he’s a closet romantic. Bitty’s just glad he’s bonding with his team. “Who won the bet?”

“Umm…” Chowder starts, right as Ollie and Wicks walk in. They glance into the kitchen, double take, fist bump, and yell “Foine!” in perfect unison. 

“They did.” Chowder finishes, over the sound of Dex’s cursing.


End file.
